Have you ever watched a crowd go wild for a PowerPoint slide? After a few introductory hellos yesterday in Butler, Pennsylvania, Donald Trump gestured to a screen showing the same graph on illegal immigration that he had been talking about when he was nearly assassinated in July and delivered his real opening line: “As I was saying …”
The audience loved that. The rallygoers had waited in line for hours in the hot sun to get into the field, and this was their reward.

On December 12, 2015, the 195 country parties to the United Nations’ climate body adopted the Paris Agreement on climate change. The accord was historic, sending a message to governments, boardrooms, clean-tech innovators, civil society, and citizens that the leaders of the world had finally come together to combat climate change.
The agreement was groundbreaking in many respects. It cast aside the old paradigm in which climate obligations applied only to developed countries.

Nigel Farage, the populist British politician and ally of Donald Trump, recently lit up outside a pub in London. This was not in itself unusual. He has regularly been photographed with a cigarette in hand, often also with a pint of beer—part of a “man of the people” shtick that he has honed over the years, belying his private education and previous career as a commodities trader. This time, though, Farage was staging a political protest of sorts.

Recently, in a few cities across the country, Starbucks quietly unveiled a pair of drinks, one resembling a pistachio milkshake, the other a mossy sludge. Unlike with green beverages already on the Starbucks menu, their hue does not come from matcha, mint, or grapes. They are green because they contain actual greens—or, at least, a dried and powdered form of them sold by the supplement company AG1.

Editor’s Note: Washington Week With The Atlantic is a partnership between NewsHour Productions, WETA, and The Atlantic airing every Friday on PBS stations nationwide. Check your local listings or watch full episodes here.  
With a month left until the presidential election, Kamala Harris and Donald Trump have turned to issues of foreign policy on the campaign trail as tensions in the Middle East rise.

Donald Trump and J. D. Vance support a national ban on abortion. They are just calling it something else.
Since the justices Trump appointed to the Supreme Court provided the conservative majority necessary to overturn the constitutional right to an abortion, women in Republican-controlled states have been forced to flee their homes in order to receive lifesaving care. Some women have died or were treated only at the brink of death.

The United States is trapped in a cycle of disasters bigger than the ones our systems were built for. Before Hurricane Helene made landfall late last month, FEMA was already running short on funds; now, Alejandro Mayorkas, the Homeland Security secretary, told reporters on Wednesday, if another hurricane hits, it will run out altogether.

This is an edition of The Wonder Reader, a newsletter in which our editors recommend a set of stories to spark your curiosity and fill you with delight. Sign up here to get it every Saturday morning.
This time last year, I revisited an 1862 Atlantic article in which Henry David Thoreau argued that autumn wasn’t getting enough attention. At the time, I noted that fall didn’t exactly seem to be slipping from public consciousness—a trip to Starbucks makes that clear enough.

The first person who taught me something about death and defiance was the mother of a family friend, an older woman who had moved from Punjab to the United States to be closer to her son. I remember her as delicate and draped always in pastel salwar kameezes. After she was diagnosed with breast cancer, which moved quickly to claim her bones and her brain, her desire to return to Punjab intensified.